


A Valentine Written on a Broken Man

by Destinyawakened, orphan_account



Series: Will Graham's A Series of Unfortunate Holidays [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Anal, Anal Sex, Bath Sex, Bodily Fluids, Canon-Typical Violence, Choking, Implied Cannabalism, Jealousy, Light Bondage, Lovers Spat, M/M, Mall Santa! Hannibal, Mind Games, Minor Character Death, Oral, Possessive Hannibal, Possessive Will, Rimming, Threesome, Valentine's Day, Violent Sex, Wall Sex, idiotic poet, mall cop! Will, rug sex, valentine's day crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:24:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5971825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destinyawakened/pseuds/Destinyawakened, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The surely mall cop and Mall Santa have fled the country after killing Jack. Hannibal has been teaching Will his ways for a little over a month now, but someone from home threatens their balance.<br/>**Not as dramatic as it sounds, still cracky and yet canon-ish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Valentine Written on a Broken Man

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Not beta'd, sorry, all mistakes are our own  
> 2) Crack, so please don't take this that serious (though it might seem like it in parts)

Fleeing from the United States meant they had to go somewhere familiar, at least to Hannibal, and yet also where they could blend in easily. All good where Hannibal Lecter seemed to be concerned, as Will noticed, but hardly for himself. Will was dressed in lavish fabrics, and Hannibal had suits made especially for him, much to Will’s annoyance, but he took it all in stride, mainly in the name of infatuation. He wouldn’t call it ‘love’ just yet. He hardly knew Hannibal, and from a psychological standpoint, falling in love with your captor was… not healthy.

 

Then again, Will hardly did much that was healthy, mentally, or physically.

 

On more than one occasion, they attended parties, and Hannibal would make a game, of sorts, in hunting down the obscenely rude, chatting them into coming back to their home, and then he and Will would kill them. They only did this once in awhile, no more than twice person town, as not to leave a trail. Will was slowly learning the basics of butchering and the mastery of a good kill. In the month and half they toured Italy together, Will was fastly becoming an equal in Hannibal’s playing field, bonding them together even more.

 

Fast closing in on a very US holiday, Valentine’s Day, Will and Hannibal attended a party where they there in met a man, graying, taller than Will, but built about the same, slightly broader.

 

As it turned out, the man knew Hannibal very well, a frequenter to Hannibal's old bookshop he left behind when they made their run from the States.

 

Anthony Dimmond.

 

Will hated the way the other man pawed at Hannibal, drank champagne with a glass in each hand, and also gave Will googly eyes of interest that made him flush and feel entirely too uncomfortable for his own good.

 

Hannibal, of course, took it all in stride, but it was _bad_ news, and they both knew it. Someone from home finding them meant that sooner or later, authorities would find out. It also meant, Will would have to go with the flow of Hannibal’s plans.

  


***

Anthony Dimmond looked up with an utterly delighted grin, “Well, I was promised the food would be gourmet but I was never warned the company would be as equally as… delicious.” He eyed Will with indiscrete covetousness as he sipped on his wine.

“You must tell me, how did you both end up here, in Florence.”

It was clear Anthony had sniffed out their secret here - just a little loose end for Hannibal to tie up, in more ways than one.

Hannibal stayed silent as he watched Anthony lavish attentions on Will. He couldn’t say he blamed the poor man. But there would be...repercussions when all was said and done, regardless of the secrets he’d unveiled.

 

Will was, in fact, very annoyed by the whole ordeal. Hannibal said they had been very good about covering their tracks, but unfortunately, smart Englishmen who can't keep their noses out of anyone's business, seemed to snoop in all the right places. It hadn’t helped that Anthony knew Hannibal to begin with.

 

Will grew even more surely than usual as Hannibal just _watched_ Dimmond flirt and caress against him all evening, one too many glasses of wine, and Will without enough whiskey to care.

 

"Vacation. We ended up staying." A coy reply, as all three of them knew, it wasn’t case, but Anthony played along, as he had ever since first meeting.

 

Oblivious to any tension or surliness, other than the low hum of erotic tension brewing in the air despite the resentful undercurrents, Anthony dragged his chair closer to Will, leaning one arm on the table, just near where Will’s arm lay.

“Vacation? Ah! A honeymoon, perhaps? I can’t say I blame you for staying. Florence is after all the most beautiful city in the world and one can _never_ be blamed for falling for beauty. Can one, Hannibal?” He took a sip of wine as he let his fingers brush over Will’s where they lay on the table while stealing a glance towards Hannibal.

 

Hannibal just took another small sip of wine, a smirk on his lips, “No, one cannot.”

 

Will's scowl turned to Hannibal, at though his 'husband' were encouraging the poet- a very tipsy poet at that. They wore rings to suggest they were married, it made for a good story, even though Will and Hannibal hardly knew each other. He still huffed at the thought of eloping with a mall Santa.

 

"It's his favorite," Will murmured, tucking his fingers around his whiskey glass, and shot back the rest.

 

Anthony grinned from under his thin goatee as Will threw down the rest of his drink. The poet twirled his own glass between long fingers.

 

“Well, one certainly can’t question his taste.” Where his fingers were brushing over Will’s they were now stroking in languid motions up his bare forearm.

 

“It seems, perhaps, your dear husband was merely bringing beauty home, hm?” He brought Will’s hand to his lips and kissed it once, softly and then bit it as he looked towards Hannibal with a mischievous glint in his narrowed eyes. They’d certainly entertained the idea with Anthony that this was far more than just your average dinner party, and Anthony was also willing to come and participate, as he clearly  had his sights set on Hannibal for sometime, and now Will, upon meeting him.

Hannibal nodded, smiling, drink in hand as he slowly stood and moved to stand behind Will, resting a firm hand on his shoulder. “I am glad we can agree upon taste and beauty, Mister Dimmond.” He cupped a hand under Will’s jaw and leaned down and kissed him fully and passionately.

Anthony’s lips made their way up his bare arm, lips and teeth moving in turn.

 

Ambushed. That's what Will felt in that moment. Hannibal was on him like a predator, and Anthony was working him over like one of his horrid poems. Will's hand came up and gently stroked and then tugged on Hannibal's hair, tongue and teeth grounding him to the spot as his lavished hand curled fingers around Anthony's collar, pulling the man from his seat, and into Will's, on him.

 

When in Rome? Wasn't that the saying?

 

Anthony moaned out as he was tugged up by rough hands, “Ohhh…my. Mm yes. Yes, this indeed. You beautiful brute…”

The poet straddled Will’s lap with long legs and leaned up to join the kiss with wine stained lips. “And the beauty tastes as good as it looks,” he murmured as his tongue swiped along Will’s lips.

The poet’s long fingers started undoing the buttons of Will’s shirt, moans and whimpers dropping from his thin lips as his fingers brushed smooth muscle underneath. “Oh, and he is even carved like an angel!” All the while his lean hips circled in lazy motions on Will’s lap, rubbing over the hardness there.

Hannibal helped peel Will’s shirt off, his mouth never leaving his lover’s. Hannibal happily shared the pleasure with the poet as his own elegant fingers stroked down Will’s biceps and gently held him. The poet then started to lick and suck over Will’s chest, abusing each nipple in turn with a long hot tongue. Hannibal smiled; the poet was a Valentine’s Day gift – of sorts. But the _unwrapping_ had only just begun, really.

Hannibal sat back against the table for a moment, sipping his wine, hand in Will’s dark curls, just watching as his lover was worshipped by new hands. Hannibal did enjoy watching but that role would only last for so long before he moved them somewhere more comfortable where they could both engage in adoring the _beauty_ that was Will.

 

Will’s head lulled back into Hannibal’s hand, his eyes drifting to his lover as their newest victim pleasured him with bites and kisses, long licks and long fingers alike. Will tugged the scarf off from around the poet’s long neck, letting it flit to the ground and pool around their feet. He pushed the sport jacket off his shoulders, kicking off his own shoes as he dragged Hannibal back in for another kiss, not going to let him get away or just keep _watching._

 

The poet took the hint and stood back briefly to toe off his own shoes and discard his own shirt to reveal a long, lean olive skin torso. He leaned and took another long sip of wine as he watched Will and Hannibal devour one another, “If ever there existed a living poem…” he breathed out as a long finger trailed along his own collar bone.

Hannibal looked up at that, “Indeed, Mister Dimmond.” He broke away from Will’s kiss and rounded the chair. Taking Will’s hand, Hannibal guided him to his feet and pulled him hard against him, Will’s back to his chest. He snaked a strong arm around his bare waist and nuzzled cruel lips into his neck, “Let’s take this somewhere more…poetic.” Hannibal’s tone was dry and mocking for Will’s amusement.

Hannibal glanced once at the poet indicating he should follow. Hannibal also dipped down to pick up the poets scarf. Meanwhile, Hannibal mauled and manhandled Will until they were standing in front of one of their over-sized fireplaces that was roaring with light and heat, a soft fur rug underfoot.

After they killed Jack, they had no choice but to flee the country, together. Will hadn't minded, Hannibal had more than enough money and resources to make everything perfect for them no matter where they went. They'd killed a few people here and there who got in there way, or had been entirely rude about their marriage, but never had they killed merely for the sport of it.

 

Anthony might just prove that differently, as he knew what they were but was unafraid, and still _wanted_ them both. The thought was more alluring to Will than the man himself, as no one turned his head quite like Hannibal.

 

Will turned into Hannibal's arms and started to push and remove layers from his 'husband' letting Anthony nestle in behind him now as he did.

 

Hannibal let his vest and then his shirt fall to the floor. He yanked Will forward by the belt as he bit a kiss down into him with a possessive growl letting everyone in the room know where the balance of power and ownership lay.

 

Not caring for the damaged caused, Hannibal pushed Will’s pants down without undoing zips or belts, letting blunt nails scrape over his naked hips. Light red wound trails ran down Will’s buttocks and thighs.

Anthony now behind him, barefoot in dress pants, cupped Will’s ass, kissing along lean shoulders. “A sin that something as perfect as this should ever be clothed and hidden from view. Such angelic bones here...” he hummed. Elegant hands kneaded over Will’s pert ass and smoothed down his hips and thighs as the poet pushed his hips up against Will’s ass letting him feel the line of his cock against his cleft.

"Do you always talk so much?" Will asked, the poet, though breathless where he stood naked between them.

 

Will was Hannibal's through and through, but he couldn't help the groan that escaped his mouth as Anthony’'s bulge pressed tight against him. Will reached behind and palmed the poet's ass, bringing him in close, a slow grind back against his cock, while he undid Hannibal's slacks and shirt, dragging him in for another heated kiss, all tongue and teeth nipping.

 

Hannibal bit down into Will’s mouth as he stepped out of his pants revealing his Herculean form. He grabbed Will’s hips in a bruising grip and kissed down his jaw and neck with full, cruel lips as their hard cocks rolled and rubbed over one another, the heat and glow of the fire casting erotic shadows across their skin.

 

The poet followed and slid out of his pants and returned to crush Will between himself and Hannibal. Where Hannibal was looming and broad, Anthony was lean and long.

He panted in Will’s ear, “Words help carve out the world’s most wondrous experiences into something tangible for others to share. But,” he bit a line of small bites down Will’s shoulder “if you have something better for my mouth to do oh sweet horrid beauty…” he moaned, “please do share my sweet thing. My tongue is yours for the bidding.” Anthony cupped Will’s ass, spread it and let his shaft slide up between his cheeks.

A groan escaped Will's mouth when he opened his mouth to say something bitter, but nothing else came out. His spread easily for Anthony, gripping himself and Hannibal in one hand, toes deep in rug under his bare feet, trying to steady his pulsing body, blood rushing through his veins with lust.

 

"Put that tongue to better use," Will finally managed to get out, pressing Hannibal down onto the rug, he got between his legs, his own ass in the air, and started to lick at his thick cock.

 

Eye’s marble black, Hannibal slapped a hand over Will’s mouth with a snarl. He picked them both up off the floor, holding Will tight against him. Hannibal looked to Anthony, “If you won’t mind, thank you?” He gestured to the rug.

Anthony grinned nervously, “My how very...barbaric of you. But far be it from me to deny such… commands.” Much like a slinky cat Anthony lowered himself to the floor, leaning back on his elbows, long legs outstretched as he looked up at them. His eyes were bright as he licked his lips.

 

Growling in Will’s ear just for Will to hear Hannibal spoke, “If you think your ass belongs to anyone else but me, don’t think I won’t hesitate.” He released his hand from Will’s mouth, tossing him towards Anthony. He came up roughly behind Will, hand wrapping around his waist as his rocked his cock against his lover’s ass and bit his neck hard enough to draw blood with a primal grunt.

Using his weight, Hannibal dragged himself and Will to their knees. Still pressed to Will’s back, they both looked over Anthony where he lay and writhed on the floor like some needy thing. Hannibal reached around and started to stroke Will’s cock as they watched the poet ache.

 

Hannibal had set the whole thing up, of course, without Will's consent on the matter, whether they killed and ate the man or fucked him, or hell, all of the above, didn't really matter as much to Will. It was consent to whatever they were doing. Offering his ass up to the poet seemed like the best bet to get his 'husband's’ jealousy raging and take what was _his_.

 

"Hannibal-" Will groaned, hips canting into his fist, eyes lidded with bliss and lust, God knew he'd come to adored Hannibal like this, but knew things could get very ugly  very quickly.

 

Hannibal knew he was being manipulated but didn’t care for it. That would be dealt with later… and in part now. He shoved Will down over the poet and bit a line of angry scars down Will’s spine until he got to his ass which he slapped, hard. He then licked the wide, rough bed of his tongue over Will’s hole using his strong hands to hold his cheeks apart.

 

Underneath Will, Anthony squealed out with delight as the two men tumbled over him. The trembling poet caught Will as he came down and pressed his hands to his taut chest. After a moment, sure that it was clear to do so, he leaned up to kiss Will softly with blissful murmurings as his hands began to wander further down, long fingers feathering and stroking over bone and planes of muscle. “Is you husband always so… brutish?” he whispered as Hannibal growled above them.

 

Will all but collapsed against Anthony, mouths meeting with soft and languid motions, passionate and _loving_ where Hannibal was brutal and demanding. Enough to make Will's head spin, blissfully.

 

"He's a monster," Will said, playfully, though every word were true, he would never change Hannibal, not now that he'd finally found his place in the world alongside the man.

 

Hannibal ignored their chit chat below, more interested in claiming what was his after it was so _freely_ offered up to another. Such limits should not need to be stated.

Hannibal used the breadth of his shoulders to wedge Will’s thighs apart and push up his buttock while his tongue dipped into his hole, curling and thrusting like the powerful muscle it was – that Hannibal had trained it to be.

Anthony blushed as he murmured against Will’s lips, “Oh, my well, you know what they say about monsters – to kill one is to become one. I am sure the same goes for loving them…” he slid a skilled hand down and curled it around Will’s cock and squeezed hard. “Oh, you are perfect…” He stroked and closed his eyes, sighing.

His free hand cupped under the line of Will’s jaw as his tongue delved into Will’s mouth. “Hm and you taste like heaven. I wonder, does beauty fuck more like an angel or a devil?” Anthony questioned with an arched brow and a light smirk, his hips shifting up to meet Will’s with a small whimpering sigh.

 

"You'll find out..."

 

Gigging at the notion of finding out about monsters, Anthony saw the effect Hannibal was having on Will. The poet took all the advantage he could, stealing heated kisses with a long seeking tongue he wrapped his legs around Will’s hips and Hannibal’s behind, rubbing his cock and his hole up against Will’s throbbing shaft. His hands reached up to mess both Will’s and Hannibal’s hair in turns.

 

Will made a near unearthly noise a Hannibal's tongue explored his hole, inside and  out. He quivered down to his forearms, pressing his hips into the poet's hands, and kissing the words from his mouth to hush him. Anymore and Will might have to use that scarf to gag the man.

 

Hannibal pushed three rough, long fingers inside Will, along with his tongue, thrusting and curling relentlessly but with absolute precision. He worked over Will until he was sure he was breathless before he removed his tongue and slid in a fourth finger and he laid on Will’s back, biting down hard on his shoulder. As he lay there, he let Will feel the thickness of his cock roll against the back of his thigh.

 

Will didn't even bother to worry about prepping the poet, he and Hannibal both knew how this would end. Will rubbed the thick head of his cock against Anthony's ass, and pressed in slowly as he felt Hannibal move behind him, waiting for his pivot of hips before he drove into their prey.

 

As soon as the poet presented himself, Hannibal moved into position behind Will. Their silent language carrying over to sexual hunting as well as murderous although, to be fair, they would always be one in the same here.

One hand gripping onto Will’s hip the other pressed hard into the fur rug, Hannibal thrust deep into Will’s ass with a growling groan, eyes closed and muscles tensed as he sank into the tight heat that was _his_.

Anthony cried out with a high call and then whimpered as Will slammed into him with the weight of two men crushing into his hips. His long hands scrambled for purchase on anything, Will, the floor, his own hair. His eyes pricked with tears from the pain but still, he rolled his ass up for more.

Clearly, Anthony had expected this much from them, ready to take without even be prepped, and Will found that slightly alluring, especially with the forethought of what was to come. He pressed in tight, with every slap and thrust from Hannibal he did the same to Anthony, moving in fluid moments of time. Will grasped the rug underneath him, and then Anthony's legs which he pushed to his chest, to get deeper.

 

Hannibal growled out as he started to twist and grind down into Will’s tight heat, using the balls of his feet to press against the floor and come down hard, dropping his full weight to penetrate Will’s hole. And as he slammed down he could hear the poet squeal and whimper over the raw slapping of flesh, which only encouraged his violent urges here.

Jealousy did terrible things to the murderer.

One hand pressed hard against the floor he reached around and pressed the other over the poets throat, crushing his airway, Hannibal then nuzzled into Will’s neck with the utmost tenderness, licking and kissing as his hips pistoned down like crashing machinery seeking to crush anything beneath it.

Anthony whimpered and mewled as he was manhandled and fucked with pure brutality, the weight of two men ruining his hole. But something in the poet was hungry for this level of violence in his fucking. “Oh…myyyyhmmm, Willll ffuuu---“ But as Hannibal’s hand closed over his throat his brown eyes blew wide and he cried out but with no air there was no sound. Everything clenched including his hole around Will’s pounding cock. His hands scrambled over Will’s shoulders and face.

‘“Ahhhh” the poet surrendered realizing this must be part of the game.  Hannibal’s hand were hot and firm against his throat – very kinky. He squirmed in delight even as his chest burned, fighting for air.

Hannibal watched in delight, but he was only toying with his food - for now. He was making sure their lover for the night knew his place.

Fighting all his urges his relaxed his hand, just enough a low growl hovering in his chest.

 

Will watched as Hannibal strangled their guest, a look over his shoulder. When Hannibal let go, Will fucked the poet harder, ramming down into him as his ass squeezed over his shaft, milking a low groan from the surely mall cop. Will reached behind him to bring Hannibal closer, feeding off the fear in the poet, even as he relaxed. Will bit a bruising mark into the man’s chest, just over his heart.

 

Risky, considering the man pounding into Will behind him, but that was part of the _game._

 

Hannibal groaned, head hanging down as Will’s tight heat massaged his shaft. He ran a tender hand through dark curls as he fucked down into the poet with punishing force. They were both growing pleasantly drunk off the fear the poet was supplying. But as Will dipped down and /mark/ the poet’s heart, a deep and raging growl hovered in his chest.

It took everything Hannibal had not to snap both their necks where they lay _both_ helpless beneath his burly frame. And then he saw the bite mark.

Two could play that game. Nudging Will to the side slightly, Hannibal cupped the poet’s head in a tender cradling hand and licked over his lips and then dipped his tongue into the cavern of his mouth with a groan as he fucked _Will’s_ ass to the side. He kissed hungrily, claiming every one of the poets breaths and groans. He then dipped down and sucked and abused both of the poet’s pulse points, leaving bright red marks where the blood ran thinnest.

Anthony mewled as Hannibal released his hand but then cried out as Will slammed into him with even more force, coveting his whole body, leaving marks and trails of tenderness over his chest. “Oh! I—“ there weren’t quite words for Will’s violent affections but Anthony imagined he would be writing poems about them for quite some time.

That was until Hannibal, the monster, the beast, leaned down to take his fill of tenderness. With Hannibal on him like that, the world was drowned out. His arse was being punished by Will but Hannibal was worshipping his mouth. “My, Oh Hannibal—so—ah!” he sighed out as his neck was showered with gentle, claiming affections.

The gesture of marking was meant to be more of a prelude to things to come, an ironic sort of thing, toying with the man below them. Hannibal seemed set in his ways to pay Will back for every turn of intimacy he bestowed on the poet, however, even though this had hardly been   _his_ idea to begin with.

 

Will slipped out of Anthony and out of Hannibal's grasp, graciously bowing out as he rolled to the side and let Hannibal have his play thing.

 

"By all means..." he sneered, and patted the poet’s face, and stood.

 

Hannibal wasn’t the least bit interested in the sappy poet. He was meant as a gift for Will. Something to play with – in one way or another.

 

Hannibal pulled away from the poet and stood up. “Stay.” He ordered calmly, his hand held up to the poet.

Hannibal stood in a wide stance, hands behind his back, naked shoulders and chest accentuated along with his muscular thighs. “Problem, Will?” he dipped his head slightly as he shot a dark glare at Will over the naked, writhing body of the whimpering, needy poet.

As the man wouldn’t shut up, Hannibal placed a foot on his neck to silence him as he waited for Will to explain himself.

Will merely watched Hannibal, all too aware what the poet  was meant to be, and yet Hannibal couldn't let him off a leash long enough to play. It was like playing tug of war with two feral animals.

 

“Not at all. Please go back to enjoying yourself,” Will said, callously. “Mister Dimmond will hardly finish himself.”

 

Hannibal spoke quietly and calmly, “If you are not enjoying yourself I am sure he can be finished quicker than you think.” He had not removed his foot from the poet’s throat.

 

"You are making it hard to enjoy myself," Will stated, under his breath, a near growl. Toying with the poet was all in fun, yes, but not Will's sort, and if Hannibal thought it a good gift, then Hannibal was missing the target.

 

"You've been smitten since we met up with him."

 

Hannibal smirked, and a raised brow. “If I was so smitten don’t you think I would have been the one _fucking_ him, Will? As stated, my tastes are singular.” Hannibal’s affections and attentions only gravitated to one point on this earth, one very surly and unappreciative point.

“There are more ways than one to unwrap a gift, if that is your wish.” Hannibal ground his foot down on to the poet’s throat, the slim man croaking beneath.

"Why gift him at all?" Will asked, clearly he'd never wanted the wordy thing anyway, it had been Hannibal who had wanted to end this personally, and Will was ever ready to please the man as they were still getting to know each other.

 

Perhaps they took a slight misstep here.

 

Okay, a large misstep.

 

Anthony had seen too much to start with, smarter than he seemed to have lead on, and most assuredly he used that to get into their home and into their bed.

 

Will just wanted a quiet, wine, and whiskey soaked holiday with Hannibal.

 

Hannibal, at times, could be described as whimsical. The poet had fished out their secret identity and needed to be dealt with. He knew the poet would take a shine to Will. Nearly everyone did. Hannibal was merely ensuring he was catering to Will’s every taste.

Hannibal was, after all, the ultimate host. But clearly this dish has soured.

With a quick twist and thrust of his leg he snapped the poets neck, leaving him as nothing but a _silent_ corpse on the floor. Not a flinch was had as Anthony stopped breathing, soiling himself there on the carpet, they would no doubt burn later anyway.

Leaving the  man without a second thought, Hannibal slowly walked towards Will until he had him pressed up against the wall, chest to chest and eye to eye, sharing breath. “What gift would you prefer, husband of _mine_?”

 

Will pressed the scarf her had snatched early from Hannibal into his hands, and then kissed him with fervor. All he ever wanted was this, just Hannibal, Will didn't have a straying taste.

 

"You. Me. That’s it."

 

Hannibal hummed as he hooked the scarf around Will’s neck and dragged him in and up for a kiss. He pulled himself up to his full height and pressed his body into the others, caging him against the wall.

He kissed apart Will’s soft lips so his tongue could dip into the cavern of his mouth, seeking out his every taste and sliding over every perfect, white teeth, nearly suffocating Will with his need and the pull of the scarf.

Using the turn of his hips and the roll of his thighs he pushed apart Will’s legs and positioned himself between.

 

Groaning, Will kissed with tongue and teeth, gnashing and lashing against each other, near breathless by the time Hannibal let him breath again. He parted his thighs, hooking one leg up around Hannibal's hip, widening his own to give his 'husband' access.

 

Hannibal smiled a wry grin as Will hooked a leg around, granting access but also seeking some control of the situation – no matter how minute.

 

Hannibal whipped the scarf down from Will’s neck and quickly snatched Will’s hands, spinning him around and tying a rough, firm knot around his wrists, trapping him. “Careful what _gifts_ you _hand_ me, horrid boy.”

He pushed Will hard up against the wall, face first and kicked apart his thighs. Keeping him pinned there with a firm hand at his back, he kissed a hot, wet trail down his spine and over his ass.

Kneading and spreading the firm cheeks there, Hannibal nosed in between the cleft and licked a hot stripe over Will’s already tender hole only determined to make it that much more ripe.

 

Every ounce of power Will was given was always taken away tenfold. Will knew that some day, maybe he'd best the monster, but he'd already played his hand today and was lucky to live at all after his horrid behavior. That's how, however, Will knew he had the cannibalistic Mall Santa Claus wrapped around his fingers.

 

Letting out a low groan, Will pressed against his restraints, arching back against Hannibal's perfectly hot tongue.

 

“Nothing I didn’t already want.”

 

Both Hannibal and Will knew full well the balance of power here lay with Will. Love will do that to a person, even a cannibalistic serial killer. So while Hannibal’s instincts might be the ones honed to murder and even more prone to violently lashing out in the moment, it would always be Will who had Hannibal up against the wall and sunk to his knees – no matter how appearance may seem.

“Hmn, seems you have a way of getting what you want, Mister Graham.”

Hannibal forced Will’s thighs wide, his hands sliding up the back as his tongue pushed deep inside his hole licking, curling and worshipping before three fingers slid into his pulsing heat.

 

Thighs quivering with lust, Will found it difficult to stand much longer like this as he leaned his chest against the wall, hands clenched behind his back as he huffed breaths against paint, hips canting back and down against Hannibal's fingers and tongue.

 

"Oh God-"

 

Hannibal scissored and curled his fingers deep inside Will, prepping him for the ruining to come. He found that sensitive bundle of nerves and abused it without mercy, stroking his own cock as he looked up at his lover.

Will moaned and writhed against the wall, utterly bound but totally in control. The fluid nature of power between them was… intoxicating.

“Tell me how much you want it…” he growled and bit against the inside of Will’s thigh.

 

Will's eyes closed, relishing the feeling of Hannibal's fingers sliding in and out of him, pressing hard against his favorite spot, the one that made his toes curl into the wood floor under him.

 

"So much I would kill for it... For _you_..." He had before, he would again.

 

The promise of such beautiful dreadful things turned Hannibal’s lust from raging to monstrous. He lunged up, hands slamming against the wall and pressing himself between Will’s thighs, he thrust his cock hard up into Will’s tight heat with a possessive growl.

 

Will groaned heavily against the wall, his face turned to looked at Hannibal, watching him as he was pressed into. He let out a relieved sigh, slowly, pressing back against Hannibal, legs spread wide, ready to take his worst, knowing he could.

 

"Hannibal-"

 

Hannibal was at times enraged by the power this man wielded over him and the monster and at other times, delighted. As those wicked wolf-blue eyes peered over at him, as that ass rolled back and as his name was moaned out, Hannibal’s whole body tightened with the hunger and tension of a predator.

Eyes locked on Will’s, one hand came down smacking hard enough against Will’s ass to leave a mark for weeks. The other wrapped around Will’s waist tugging him back and up so Hannibal could fuck him at a thoroughly rough and ruinous angle – claiming everything that was his.

As he pounded up into Will’s tight, clenching heat he leaned back and wrapped a hand around Will’s throat, if only to feel the dance of his delicious Adam’s apple there and perhaps, threaten the chance of death –a little spice to the recipe of lust brewing between his thighs and ready to fill Will twice over.

 

Violence was the language of love between them, without it they merely danced a fine line between hatred and obsession. Will craved it- needed it. He swallowed hard, throat tight against Hannibal's fingers,gasping breaths as he felt tension start to coil deep in his loins. He felt Hannibal's deep, dark lust about to burst,  monstrously.

 

“Fuck-” the word slipped from Will’s mouth, face flushed as he groaned through the explosion of pleasure that caused his body to tense and throb about Hannibal's cock.

 

Hannibal returned a snapping growl at that. Yes, Will was fucked as Hannibal’s hand tightened on his throat and the arm around his waist lifted him higher. Hannibal pistoned up with brutal force, his own leg quaking slightly as the liquid heat swirling in his core shot up and through his throbbing cock, filling Will and spilling down his thighs in thick, pearly globs. Hannibal’s whole body trembled as it fell against Will’s, sweat running down his face and chest, hair slick against his skin. Letting go of Will’s throat, Hannibal’s mouth found the bow of Will’s shoulder and proceeded to abuse it with kisses and licks – tasting and scenting him with a hum.

 

Will had no words other than the groans that escaped his mouth, limp against the wall as Hannibal leaned into him. His arms ached something fierce, hands still clasped behind his back, sweat dripping down the the line of muscle that curved there.

 

Hannibal grunted as he pulled back and pushed Will to the ground, sitting against the wall where he was bound still.

Lining his own hole with his cum, he sank his ass down on Will’s throbbing cock, gaze locked on sea-blue, a snarl on his lips as he hissed out, a burning pain going deep to his core and blooming to bliss again as he rode Will’s cock.

 

Will had been very close before,  just teetering on the edge, and when Hannibal slid down over him, Will let his head fall back, heels dug into the floor to press his hips up and into the other man.

 

"Please-" he groaned, not sure what he was asking for at this point.

 

“Begging is so sweet on your tongue. I should just bite it off…” Hannibal leaned down and sucked Will’s tongue as he rolled and pounded his ass down on Will’s long shaft, groaning as he did. One hand gripped Will’s straining shoulder, the other pressed hard against the floor to give him greater leverage and precision as he fucked himself down onto Will, just as violently as he had fucked himself up into him only moments ago.

 

Will let out low groan, against Hannibal's mouth, and started to come undone right there, waves of hot pleasure forced out through his cock from his lower back and balls, making him see stars behind his eyes.

 

Hannibal closed his eyes and let out a low primal sound, close to a purr as Will blew hot and hard deep within him. The tremble and shake of his lover falling apart beneath him, warmed him in ways he hadn’t ever anticipated he could be – it shook him every time.

Panting, Hannibal climbed off Will, gently reaching behind to undo his ties. Kneeling down, he cupped his jaw and kissed his forehead and then his lips. In one swift motion he scooped Will and the bottle of whiskey up and stepping over Anthony’s corpse, carried him to their bathroom to soak in the tub.

 

Will took the bottle from Hannibal, his arms and fingers starting to come back to life after being tied uncomfortably, and took a swig off of it. He shared a bit in a kiss with Hannibal as a bath was drawn.

 

"Let's not give anymore people presents," he sighed.

 

Hannibal set Will down in the tub before climbing in behind him. Resting his head on his shoulder, “You know I can’t promise you that.” He chuckled, long fingers sliding down Will’s silk-wet thigh.

 

“I meant into our bed,” Will retorted, turning his shoulder to give Hannibal a look. It was clear that neither of them could honestly deal with another person between them. The poor poet was dead now. Inevitable as that had been.  
  
“Do you suppose he’ll make a good meal?”

 

Hannibal hummed in firm agreement. “I’ll make something decent out of him.” Hannibal responded non-committedly as he reached for the bottle taking a swig. In all honesty, he liked seeing Will’s possessive side come to light.  It was when the situation was reversed it got… messy. It was clear their relationship only barely had enough room for the both of them, let alone anyone else.

 

It was a strange life he’d walked into, or rather, was forced into, but Will found the ease of not caring about his job, or being forced to work to make ends meet was soothing to his soul. He might have ‘married’ a monster, but he hardly found room to care. His heart knew what it wanted, and it was definitely sitting behind him in the tub.

 

Hannibal, for all his refinement and carefully structured world, was a creature driven by instinct. He knew from the first moment he laid eyes on the surly mall cop that there was more to him than anyone else saw – and that he wanted that, all of that.

So, much like the cavemen of old, Hannibal clubbed him over the head and took him. He knew the lure of being _seen_ and _understood_ would work its own charms, let alone everything else Hannibal had to offer.

He brought his strong hands up to Will’s soapy shoulders and started to massage the tightness there.

 

Will dropped his head to the front as Hannibal did that, tension leaving his shoulders where it had been strained before when tied back. He hummed his approval, rolling his head from side to side.

 

Hannibal hooked his long, muscular legs over Will’s and leaned him forward in the tub, massaging with strong, slippery fingers right down his spine and then back up over his shoulders and down his arms.

He explored every angled bone and curved muscle. He pushed his hands up into his dark, wet curls and cupped the base of his scull, moving with tender motions as his lips grazed the bow of his shoulder.

 

A sigh escaped passed Will's lips, letting the crude part of the evening escape him, like Hannibal's hands were rubbing every awful memory away and replacing them with these.

 

“Better?” he murmured against Will’s neck, hands sliding around his waist, fingers tracing the V-line of muscle there, dipping down beneath the water.

 

Will let out a contented sigh and leaned back against Hannibal, nosing the side of his neck, a rare moment of tenderness between them.

 

"Much."

 

Where Hannibal’s legs were hooked in, he used the leverage to part Will’s thighs. As his fingers dipped lower and circled over Will’s soapy, wet balls he murmured against his ear, “Better?”

 

“Even better,” he murmured, thigh spread wider as he realized what Hannibal was doing, hips canted out even to give more access.

 

Hannibal bit the side of Will’s neck as he slid an easy diget deep inside and started to ever so gently pet the rough, fleshy pout of his prostate, feeling it tremble beneath the pad of his finger.

 

Trembling, Will leaned back against Hannibal, hips arched to meet his finger, head dropped back against his shoulder, gasping as he was brought to arousal again.

 

“Good,” Hannibal murmured against Will’s throat - one hand stroking down over his slippery chest as his single, precise finger worked him over.

He repositioned himself behind Will so his own, thick cock started to slide against the part of his cleft. “Tell me… tell me how it feels…” he pushed his finger down hard on that /spot/

 

"Like I want to explode inside you all over again," Will groaned, grinding down on Hannibal's finger, trying to get more, deeper, greedily.

 

“Is that so?” Hannibal asked with an arched brow, not so Will could see, of course.

In one swift move he spun Will so he was facing him and neatly nestled between his legs. The water easing his weight, he wrapped his thighs around Will’s narrow waist, “Well, happy valentine’s, dear boy…” he murmured against his ear, rocking his hips up.

 

A new sort of lust burst in Will's eyes, creating dark oceanic looking irises. He pressed himself deep inside Hannibal, still wet with his come, and grasped his thighs and curled them over his arms. Often, Hannibal didn't give Will the chance to show his true colors, he wouldn't let him down now.

 

He started to thrust, deep and hard, enough to rock the water over the sides of the tub.

 

Hannibal threw his head back, arching as Will slammed straight in. He swore in several languages under his breath as Will folded him up and pushed in deeper. He grabbed on to the side of the tub to try and steady himself against the blissful assault, groaning as his prostate was beautifully abused by Will’s swollen head.

 

Will gripped the side of the tub for leverage now and  rammed into Hannibal harder, faster, not much water even left, all sloshed out over the side. He leaned in and bit the side of Hannibal's throat.

 

That almost drew a full curse from Hannibal as he was crashed into, bitten and thoroughly ravaged. A hot shiver of desire ran up his spine and set his pulse racing and skin burning. Pulling his thighs higher and wider he presented himself and started clenching his hole, hard and tight around Will’s slippery cock. That only served to heightened of thick flesh pounding into velvet muscles. He grunted out as he lost his grip on the tub, sliding under Will as he rammed down into him. It was beautiful. “Harder…” he growled, catching hold of the tub and Will again, pushing his hips up.

Will pounded down, hard crashing whips of his hips, grunting and growling under under his breath, hips working under the thick pulse of pleasure that was throbbing through his groin and lower back. He bit down on Hannibal’s shoulder this time, drawing beads of blood into his mouth, lathing over the wound with huffed breaths.

 

Hannibal’s head rolled to the side with a growling groan. Scenting his own blood and Will’s arousal on the air was a heady combination. A quaking shudder rocked through him as the threatening wave of liquid desire that turned in his core pulsed forward, encouraged with every strike to his prostate by Will’s fat cock. Eyes rolling back and hips jerking up, Hannibal blew hot and hard over his soapy chest, white sparks floating behind his eyes as his core shivered with rolling waves pleasure that drew grunting gasps. “Will….”

 

Will watched his 'husband' fall apart under him, which only spurred on his hips to assault his ass until he felt him tremble around him, squeezing and hot. Will followed not far behind, gasping and panting through white hot waves of pleasure, blood stained teeth gritted.

 

Hannibal arched and groaned out Will’s name like a prayer as his ass was filled with his cum. Even in the heat of the bath he could feel the hot liquid over every crevice.

Hannibal turned to lick the blood off his ‘husband’s’ teeth with a lewd moan.

 

Will went about cleaning them both up after that, and then slid out of the tub, taking Hannibal’s hand and leading out, over the corpse, and to their bedroom. He had an idea reeling around his mind about what to do with Anthony, but it’d have to wait until Hannibal was asleep. Somethings had to be left a surprise.

 

Once Hannibal had fallen into deep sleep, Will made sure he was out cold for the evening before getting back up, dressed, and dragged Anthony's corpse across the marbled floors and down into the cellar of their villa, where Hannibal usually did most of the carving himself. After having watched Hannibal for quite sometime, Will thought it time to put his own mark into the world, and set to work making the ultimate Valentine for his 'husband'.

 

Will left a note for Hannibal, a circle spot on a map that he could come and find him. The being, of course, the Norman Chapel, a spot Hannibal had talked about often, and they were going to visit soon enough anyway. Awaiting him was Will's gift, a Valentine fit for a murderous two.

  
  
  



End file.
